How Close Am I To Losing You
by Kellyyy
Summary: He peeks into the room, scans the place in search for his wife. His voice is soft, careful, in the same way it has been for the last three days. He finds her in a corner, right next to the crib, the blanket in which they were supposed to bring Allie home clutched to her chest. One-Shot. LP.


**Summary: **He peeks into the room, scans the place in search for his wife. His voice is soft, careful, in the same way it has been for the last three days. He finds her in a corner, right next to the crib, the blanket in which they were supposed to bring Allie home clutched to her chest. One-Shot. LP.

**AN: **Hello! Happy New Year! It's been, once again, a while since I posted anything, but here's a new one-shot. It's sort of set after season 5, if you want. All you really need to know is that LP has been married for some seven years or so. Hope you like it!

Title comes from _The National_'s _About Today_, which is, in my opinion, very fitting for this story and to which I wrote the majority of it. I also want to let you know that I tried to write this from Lucas' perspective, which means that there's not much insight on Peyton, except for what she says and what Lucas deduces. I'm sorry if this bothers you, I just wanted to challenge myself by trying to write something exclusively from Lucas' perspective.

Thank you for reading!

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><p><strong>How Close Am I To Losing You<strong>

"Peyt?"

He peeks into the room, scans the place in search for his wife. His voice is soft, careful, in the same way it has been for the last three days.

He finds her in a corner, right next to the crib, the blanket in which they were supposed to bring Allie home clutched to her chest.

She doesn't look up, can't meet his eyes, and he gets it. Of course he gets it.

He sits down next to her, knocks her knee a little with his, but doesn't say anything for a while. It's almost too overwhelming, being in the room that was supposed to be his little girl's, but he feels like he can't leave. He can't leave Peyton alone here.

It's been minutes, maybe even an hour, when there's a soft knock on the door.

Lucas looks up at the door, but Peyton's eyes stay fixed on the blanket in her hands.

"Do you want something to eat? I'm making a snack for Matty." Karen's voice fills the room and he catches Peyton's eyes fall close at the mention of Matthew.

It feels like a knife through his heart; the guilt of having forgotten about his son for a moment closing in on him. He nods at his mom, tells her he'll be out in a second and then turns to his wife,

"Are you coming too?" His voice feels a bit hoarse, the sound piercing through the silence left by Karen leaving.

Peyton shakes her head ever so slightly, shifting away from him. He just squeezes her hand for a moment and gets up to leave the nursery.

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There's an eerie silence in the house, echoes of the noises he's used to long gone. Matty is eating a sandwich in the kitchen, Karen watching over him.

When he enters the kitchen, Matthew looks up at him, his eyes full of questions. He's tried explaining it all a bit to the boy, but he knows he probably didn't do a very good job.

"Where's mom?" He asks around a bite of his sandwich and Karen immediately steps closer to him, ruffles his hair slightly in what Lucas knows is her way of comforting.

Lucas swallows once before answering, "She's in Allie's room, buddy. She'll be out soon."

His boy just nods and goes back to eating his sandwich, but Karen's eyes stay on her son. He ignores the questions in them and looks around the house.

"Where's Brooke?" He asks. He remembers her coming with them back home, but had forgotten about her when he'd joined Peyton in the nursery.

Karen tries for a smile, but he can see it falter before it ever even fully reaches its place. "She's in the bedroom, putting Peyton's stuff away."

He nods and leaves the kitchen, finds Brooke in his bedroom. She's just closing the small, empty suitcase that used to hold Peyton and Allison's things, and startles a little when she notices him entering the room.

He sees her quickly wiping away a tear before she faces him, "I put everything away, except for…" She lets her sentence trail, waving her hand in the direction of Allie's clothes on top of the dresser.

"Thanks." Lucas says and sits down on the bed, his eyes everywhere but on the tiny clothes.

She comes to sit next to him and grabs his hand. He's never been more glad to have Brooke Davis by his side.

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"Matthew's in the bathroom, I'm going to put him to bed in a few minutes." His mom breaks the silence, standing in the doorway of his bedroom.

He looks up at her, "I'll do it. I've barely seen him the last few days."

Karen nods at him, her eyes soft as she watches her son. "He understands, Lucas. Don't worry."

He nods back, weakly, but he's not convinced at all. He doesn't understand any of it himself; let alone that he expects his six-year old to get it all. Matthew's used to a happy family: parents that smile and do fun things with him, a family that comes together for barbecues so loud that they're sometimes afraid the neighbours will complain.

He's not used to silence; he's not used to his mom and his dad disappearing on him.

"He shouldn't have to. This shouldn't be happening."

"I know, honey." Karen says quietly and steps closer to him, her hand coming to rest on his shoulder.

It's only now that he notices how tired his mom looks, though it shouldn't surprise him. She's been looking after Matthew since Peyton had to go to the hospital, and has done her best to look after him and Peyton as well.

He gets up from the bed he was still sitting on, long after Brooke had left, and looks at her. "You should go home, mom. Get some rest."

She dismisses him with a wave of her hand, "I'm okay. I'll stay to help out."

"We're okay. I'll get Matty into bed, see how Peyton's doing. You don't have to worry, we'll be fine." Lucas tells her. A smile would probably convince her, but he doesn't have to energy to try for one so he just repeats himself, "We'll be fine."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah."

She agrees, though it's not hard to tell that she's reluctant to do so. "Call me if you need me."

"I will. Thank you, mom."

She wraps her arms around her son, and it almost feels as if he's five years old again, the arms of his mom enough to comfort him, to shield him from the world.

"You don't ever have to thank me for this, Lucas."

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Standing in the doorway of his son's room, nothing seems to have changed. Everything is still in the right place, everything still seems the same. However, the sight of his son sulkily thumbing through a book on his own is all but a regular one.

Matty's used to Peyton reading to him at night, as contrary as that seems when your dad's a writer. For some reason, it had been mostly Peyton picking up books to read to Matthew and eventually, the habit had stuck. Lucas would read to him occasionally as well, but not nearly as much as Peyton did.

He's never really been jealous of that, but he'd hoped the roles would be reversed with their baby girl.

"Hey, buddy." He speaks up and catches Matthew's attention. He walks closer and settles on the bed next to the boy, looking at the book in his hands. "Did you pick something to read already?"

"Is mommy coming?"

"I don't think she is." Lucas answers truthfully. He's gone checking up on Peyton, but she'd refused to come out of the nursery.

Matthew looks up at him, two pairs of the same shade of blue locking. "Why not?"

Lucas is silent for a while, tries to figure out what to tell the little boy. "You know mommy's sad, right?"

He nods, "Because Allie isn't with us. I'm sad too."

"I know, bud. We all are. We're going to need time to be happy again, okay? We just need to give mom some time. Can you do that?" He asks his son, a weak smile on his face. Matthew nods, though there's a quiver in his lip that breaks Lucas' heart.

He starts reading to the boy and hopes that'll be enough comfort for now.

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"Matt's gone to bed." Lucas says when he walks back into the nursery. Peyton's still in the same position on the floor, next to the crib. "He asked for you." He goes on as he joins her.

Her eyes look red and tired, her voice hoarse when she speaks, "Lucas, don't."

"I'm just saying." He says, though he's well aware of the effect those words would have on her. He's all too familiar with the guilt they induce. Still, he simply shrugs a shoulder and lets his head fall back against the wall. "Maybe you should go to bed too."

"I'm good here."

"Okay. So am I."

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He wakes up in the middle of the night, his neck and back stiff and achy from sleeping in a sitting position. It takes him a moment to realize Peyton's no longer next to him.

He wanders out of the nursery into the hallway. She's not in their bedroom, not in the bathroom. He figures she's downstairs, but stops in his way to the stairs to check up on Matt.

It's not something he does regularly; has never felt this overwhelming need to check up on his son during the night just in case something was wrong. It doesn't mean he doesn't worry about Matty, of course he does. It just means that he isn't too worried, that he has trust in the way the world works.

The urge he feels right now to check up on him should surprise him maybe, the feeling so rare, but somehow, after what happened to Allison, it doesn't.

When he opens the door to the boy's room quietly, he finds Matt snuggled into Peyton's side. He can tell she's still awake, knows her body language too well not to be able to, but he doesn't say anything.

He wants her to have this moment after the horrible few days they've had.

At the same time, he can't really leave either, the thought of walking back out of the room, facing their empty house and leaving his family inside not at all a pleasant one. So he settles in the armchair in the corner of the room and lets his eyes fall close.

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His night is filled with restless periods of sleep and amounts of time spent awake, looking over his wife and son.

He's tired as hell when morning comes, but well, he figures he wouldn't have had much sleep anyway had Allie been there with them.

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Matt's already in the kitchen when Lucas makes his way downstairs. He's spooning his cereal absentmindedly and it's only when Lucas calls out to him that he notices his dad standing in the doorway, "Morning, buddy. Did you make breakfast yourself?"

The boy shakes his head, "Mom did."

"You saw mom this morning?" Lucas asks surprised. She wasn't in Matt's room when he woke up in the arm chair, neither had he found her in their bedroom. "Where's she now?"

He takes a seat at the kitchen table next to his son, pours himself a cup of coffee while Matthew shrugs his shoulders. "Allie's room, I think. She didn't say much."

The words almost sound matter-of-factly; the implication of that breaking Lucas' heart a little. Peyton hasn't said much in general ever since they lost Allison, and though he understands it, the idea that this is how their son now comes to recognize his mom is almost too much.

"I'm gonna get ready. Uncle Nathan's coming."

Lucas looks at his son confused for a moment, almost doesn't recognize this boy that somehow seems so much older than his six years of age. "Matty –" He starts, but he's already made his way up the stairs.

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The day passes: Matt out with Nathan, Peyton locked in the nursery, Lucas wandering through the house. The next few days pass in the same fashion.

Peyton spends her nights in Matt's bedroom, Lucas tries to sleep in their empty bed.

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A week after Peyton came home from the hospital, Lucas finds her once again in the nursery.

"Get out." He tells her when he walks in. His voice is quiet, in contrast with the order he just gave her. The words seem harsh, the way in which they are said indicate the opposite.

Peyton looks up at him incredulously, "Excuse me?"

"I think we should take this room down." He says and the way Peyton's face seems to crumble at the words feels like a punch in the gut.

"You're not serious." She says, her hands going over her face tiredly. He knows the nuances of her voice, knows she's about to break down, but tries to stay strong and stand her ground. He's proven right by her next words, "You're not taking anything down, Lucas. I'm not letting you do that."

"This is a nursery meant for a baby, Peyton. There's no baby. I don't want this to be a museum to a life lost." The look on Peyton's face makes him regret his words immediately, he's never seen her this hurt, this betrayed. He wants to say something more, take back his words maybe, but Peyton shakes her head,

"Don't talk to me anymore. You're not taking down her room." She says firmly, leaves no room for discussion, and turns on him, heading for the far left corner of the nursery.

Lucas stands in the doorway for a few more seconds, but eventually leaves her alone.

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To his surprise, Peyton's sitting on their bed when he goes to sleep that night. As much as he hates it, he's almost gotten used to her spending her nights outside of their bedroom.

"Hi." He says softly when he walks inside. She tries for a smile and though it's not much, he'll take whatever he can get. "Aren't you gonna stay with Matty tonight?"

She shakes her head a little and starts getting ready for bed. She hasn't said anything yet and he can't help it, it frustrates him. He needs her to talk to him; as well as he knows her, he's not able to handle this horrible situation just by guessing what she's thinking.

"Good. I'm glad."

She looks up at him, "You're _glad_? You don't want me to spend time with him? You'd rather have me here, in your bed?" She asks accusingly. He sighs, but well, at least she's talking. That should count for something.

"Peyton, God, no." He says, but she's still looking at him, her eyebrows raised sky-high. He has the feeling that whatever he's going to say, it's not going to be the right answer. "That's not it. It's just…"

"Just what?"

"Maybe it's good that you're going back to what's normal." He says delicately and waits for her reaction.

She sits down on the bed again, "I just wanted to give him some comfort." She says and he gets it. He gets what's not saying as well; she wanted to give herself some comfort.

"Yeah, I know." Lucas tells her and takes place next to her. "You can't just be his mom during the night and forget about him during the day, though."

The words have barely left his mouth or Peyton has stood up again. It looks as if she's trying to get as far away from him as she can manage, her face portraying betrayal, again. It only takes a moment, though, before her face crumbles and she's on the floor. He's next to her in a second,

"Hey, it's okay." He whispers, takes her in his arms. She clings to him, her face buried in his neck, her hands gripping onto the fabric of his shirt. "It's okay, Peyt. It's okay." He keeps repeating the words, doesn't even know if she's hearing him, but he has no clue what else to do.

They sit on the floor for what feels like an hour, but could just as well be five minutes. Time has slowed down for him somehow, he notices. Ever since they came home from the hospital without their girl, the days seem to pass in slow-motion, day and night flowing into one another without much fuss. Time doesn't really seem to mean much anymore, and if it wasn't for Matthew, Lucas thinks he might not even notice when it'd be day or night or anything in between.

Eventually, Peyton speaks up, her voice soft, though, her eyes not meeting his. "I don't know what to do, Luke."

He nods against her, presses his lips to her messy curls. "Yeah, me neither."

"Did he say anything?"

"Matty?" He asks needlessly. "You know how he is, he isn't gonna complain about it. But he needs you. I know how awful it is that Allie's gone, but Matthew isn't. He still needs us, you. He needs you when he's awake too."

Her voice sounds broken when she answers, "I know. I just don't know how to be his mom right now."

Lucas lifts her face at those words, needs her to look at him. "What? Of course you do. You're being his mom whenever you go checking up on him, whenever you climb into bed with him and hold him."

"But when day comes, I can't do anything but sit in Allie's room. I can't seem to leave, it's like…"

"Like what?" He doesn't want to push her, is afraid to do so even, but it's the first time in nine days that she's really talked to him, he doesn't want her to stop.

"We had so little time with her, and that nursery… It feels like it's all that's left of her, somehow, even though she's never even been inside of it."

The words make him feel terrible; he can't imagine how she must've felt when he wanted to take the room down earlier in the day. He gets it, though, he feels the same way sometimes when he sets foot in the nursery. Other times, however, the walls of the room seem to be closing in on him, the uselessness of the room too much to bear.

His thumb perpetually rubs circles on the back of her hand as they sit in silence, Peyton's words sinking in. He's trying to find the right words, to let her know that he's sorry for trying to erase memories of what could've been, but he comes up empty.

"I'm sorry." He says eventually, the words so vague and so suitable for a million things. He's sorry for trying to take down the nursery, he's sorry for what he said about her and Matty, he's sorry for what happened to their girl.

He's sorry for the fact that they're facing this horrible situation, and he's all too well aware that whatever words he chooses, it's never going to be enough to convey just how sorry he is.

He feels her nod against his chest, "Yeah, me too."

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Lucas comes home one day from a visit to Haley at the café to find his son sitting on the last step of the stairs, his head resting in his hands and his backpack neglected beside him.

"Matty?" He asks, walking closer and taking a seat next to the boy. "What's going on? Where's mom?"

Blue eyes look up at him and he hates the look in them, still isn't used to see his boy look sad; doesn't want to get used to it either. "She's in the bedroom. Aunt Brooke's with her."

"Why is aunt Brooke here? Did mom pick you up at school?"

Matty shakes his head, "Aunt Brooke did. She said mom was sad and wanted to stay home."

Lucas's suddenly furious, can't believe that Peyton would simply refuse to pick up their son from school. She hasn't left the house since she came back from the hospital, and he knows it's been hard for her to leave the safety of their home, but he figured Matty would be enough to get her out of the house.

He's about to say something to his son, when he hears the door to their bedroom open and sees Brooke appearing in the hallway. She walks closer to them and ruffles Matt's hair when she reaches him. He smiles up at her and for a moment, Lucas is so glad to see his son smiling, he lets a smile escape as well.

"What are you doing still sitting here, bud? Go watch some TV, I'll make you a snack in a minute." Brooke tells Matty playfully and drops a kiss to his hair. He agrees without a fuss and disappears, leaving the two adults on the stairs.

Brooke sits down next to Lucas and bumps her shoulder a little with hers. Before he can say anything she's already started talking,

"I didn't mind, Luke, don't worry. You know I'm here if you guys need me."

He nods, "I know. She was supposed to pick him up, though." He says, though he knows she'll defend her best friend.

"She feels awful about it. She wanted to pick him up, she just didn't have the energy. You can't blame her for that."

"No?" Lucas asks, ignores Brooke's stern look and goes on, "She doesn't have the energy for anything. She doesn't have the energy to leave the room, to talk to us. Not even Matthew is enough to get her to do something."

"She's grieving." Brooke says needlessly.

He runs a hand over his face, "We all are. Are we locking ourselves in our rooms?"

"We all grieve in different ways. There's no textbook solution for dealing with your daughter's death, Luke." She tells him, though of course he knows that. "Don't be too hard on her." She squeezes his hand before she gets up from the stairs and follows Matthew into the living room.

He sighs to himself and gets up as well, into the direction of his and Peyton's room.

She's curled up on his side of the bed when he walks in, doesn't react to the noises he makes.

"Why didn't you pick up Matty?" He asks her when he's inside and has closed the door behind him.

"I called Brooke." She says defeated and faces away from him.

He can't help a scoff, "Yeah, I know you called Brooke. Question is, why didn't you go yourself? You're constantly telling me that you want to be his mom, that you want to be there for him more. _Be_ there more, Peyton!"

"I know! I know, okay?" Peyton yells, her voice so loud and sharp it sends him stumbling backwards. She turns back to him, gets up from her spot. "I know I'm a horrible mother right now, I know he deserves so much more. I know you deserve more than this excuse of a wife that doesn't know how to deal with all of this. I know that."

Her words should be enough to make him shut up, the harshness of them feeling like a slap in the face. He doesn't agree with her; doesn't think of her as a horrible mom or an excuse of a wife. He wants to let her know that, but his mouth betrays his brain and he barely recognizes himself as he starts to speak,

"Good. What are you going to do about it?"

She bites at her lip furiously, the tears threatening to spill hard to ignore. "You're a hypocrite, you know?"

"What?" Lucas asks, not at all expecting such words.

"You keep making me feel guilty about all this." She starts and he raises his eyebrows in question. "I'm the one who's not able to be there in the day, I can't get out of the house to pick him up from school. I'm the one who's not there enough for him, who doesn't support him enough. But, you know… Where have _you _been, Luke? Are you gonna tell me that you spend all of your time with him when he's not at school? Are you gonna tell me that you have been there for him all the time?"

He opens his mouth to speak, but she holds up a hand and shakes her head. She looks furious, an expression he hasn't seen on her in god knows how long.

"You're not the perfect dad, either."

"I never said I was." He interjects, but she's quick to cut him off again.

She glares at him, "Let me speak. You act as if I'm making all the bad decisions, acting in all the wrong ways when it comes to Matty, and to dealing with Allie's death, and I'm sick of it. You don't get to judge me. Not when you drop off our son at your brother's and spend your days on your own as well. Come back and call me a bad mom when you actually start spending more than thirty minutes a day with our kid. And –"

"I didn't call you a bad mom!" He tries to interrupt her again, but she's on a roll and there's no stopping her.

"Shut up! God, Luke, for once, let me talk. I know I'm not doing good as a mom right now. Allison dying has left me completely wrecked and every time I look at Matt, I see the big brother he could've been for her. And it breaks my heart."

She's close to tears again, he can tell, her anger fading for a moment. He's not too far from crying either; his fingers rubbing at his eyes roughly to keep the tears at bay. He feels like scratching at his skin, wants to escape his body and this moment and just leave everything behind. He's sick of the constant pain of having lost his daughter, sick of fighting with his wife while they're both all too well aware of each other's suffering. He's sick of not knowing what to say to his son or his wife. He's a writer, for god's sake, finding the right words shouldn't be this difficult.

It takes her a few moments, but eventually, it seems as Peyton has regained her composure. Lucas, on the other hand, feels like his legs might give out at any moment.

"I know I'm not dealing with it very well, I'm aware of that, believe me." She starts again, quickly swipes at her eyes to get rid of the tears. "But you judging me like that and acting like you know so much better, god, it makes me furious. You don't have that right, no one has that right. We all deal with pain in different ways, you don't get to decide that your way of dealing is better than mine. And, you know, quite frankly, I really don't think it is."

She looks him in the eyes, might be waiting for a response, but he's too stunned to say anything. He wasn't expecting this outburst, had gotten so used to this silent version of his wife that he'd almost forgotten how fierce she could be. She's honestly rendered him speechless and he thinks he sees half a smile on her face for that.

After a while, she simply nods, either at him or at herself, and leaves him standing in their room.

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He finds himself at the River Court, aimlessly shooting for the hoop over and over again. It's a blur of movement, of the ball, the hoop, Peyton's angry and betrayed expression, Matt's eyes that don't shine so brightly anymore, his daughter's face that he only got to see for two days before it was taken from them.

He blinks roughly a few times, but it does nothing to stop the tears and before he's well aware of it, he's crying and screaming at the emptiness surrounding the court, the ball long forgotten.

He screams and screams and tries to let it all out, but it doesn't feel enough. Nothing ever feels strong enough to lift the heavy weight that rests upon his heart.

Time passes, but he doesn't notice, as he's been known to do lately. He has no clue how long he's been at the court by the time his brother appears next to him.

"Come on, man, let's get you home." Nathan says, resting a hand on his brother's shoulder.

His legs having long since given up on him, Lucas looks up from the ground at the man towering above him. "Why are you here?"

Nathan sits down next to him, "Peyton called. She was worried when you didn't come home."

His eyebrows shoot up at that; as horrible as it sounds, he's actually surprised that she noticed. When he says so, Nathan frowns at him,

"Don't be like that."

"Like what?" He asks exasperatedly. He gets that she's grieving and he gets that their friends support her, but to be honest, it would be nice if they tried to see it from his perspective for once as well.

"You act as if she doesn't care about you anymore, you know that's not true."

He lets his head fall, keeps silent and Nathan lets him. He's grateful for a while, doesn't feel like talking, but the silence also forces him to think.

He isn't a fan of the silence, although it has pretty much invaded his life since their girl died. It makes everything seem cold and empty and puts all too much emphasis on the fact that Allison is gone, and how his family is slowly falling apart because of that. He has no clue how to stop what seems to be the downfall of his family; every time he thinks he's making progress, every time it looks like they're taking a step forwards, it's followed by two steps backwards.

"Did you guys fight?" Nathan speaks up after a while.

Lucas sighs, "Sort of. Peyton went on a tirade, I had no chance to fight back."

"Sounds like the Sawyer we all know and love." Nathan says, even chuckles a bit, but Lucas can't find it in himself to match that. "What was she mad about?" He asks then, a bit more delicately.

"She accused me of making her feel guilty for how she's dealing with Allie's death."

"Are you?"

He looks at his brother, "No. Not consciously, anyway."

"But it's possible that you are making her feel guilty?"

"I don't know, Nate. Maybe." Lucas says and buries his head in his hands, too tired and spent to give it any more thought. "I don't know." He repeats, and repeats again, until the words fizzle out and he's just sitting on the court, almost curled up in a ball.

Nathan helps him up from his spot, "Let's get you home."

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When he gets home, Peyton seems to be asleep in their bed. He crawls into the bed, takes up his spot next to her, chances to reach out for her.

She grabs his hand and holds it firmly in place against her stomach.

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He wakes up the next morning, his hand resting on Peyton's waist, a small figure asleep in between the both of them. He can't remember hearing Matty sneaking into bed with them during the night, exhaustion having gotten the best of him.

His heart swells at the normalcy of the picture.

A while later, Peyton wakes up too, but doesn't say anything. She just stares at him, and for now, he feels like that's enough.

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The next few weeks pass without much fuss. They haven't talked about their fight, but they haven't been fighting anymore either, so Lucas figures that should count for something.

Their house still feels empty most of the time, but Matt seems to be smiling a bit more as time passes and Peyton sleeps next to him in their bed every night.

It's not much, but it feels like a start, sort of.

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He's sitting on the steps of their front porch, watching Jamie and Matt throw a ball back and forth when Peyton calls out for him,

"Luke?"

He looks over his shoulder to see his wife standing in the doorway. "Yeah?"

She walks over and takes a seat next to him, fumbles with the rings on her hand instead of looking at him. He stops her movements with his hand over hers, "What's going on?"

She bites her lip and god, he hopes she's not going to cry. It's too hard to see her cry so much. She clears her throat and looks up at him, "I think you should take down the nursery." She says softly, and he's not sure he heard her right.

"I… What?"

"You should take down the nursery, Luke."

"Are you sure?" He asks carefully, running a hand up and down Peyton's arm.

He knows what the nursery means to her, and he doesn't want her to make any snap decisions about it. If he takes down the room, she needs to be sure about it. He can't hurt her again by trying to remove what should've been their girl's room.

She nods, "I think it's time."

He lifts a hand, brushes the apple of her cheek, "Peyt, we don't have to, you know. It can wait."

She shakes her head and moves closer to him. He wraps his arm around her and she easily settles into his embrace. "I'm ready. You were right when you wanted to take it down a while back. There are other ways to remember her than a never used nursery."

He nods and presses a kiss to her curls. If that's what she wants, he'll take down the nursery.

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It takes him a couple of hours to empty the room. He puts everything in boxes destined for the attic; he takes apart the crib and the changing table.

His throat constricts when the only thing left in the room is the rocking chair. He can't get himself to take that apart too, so he lets it be and shuts the door behind him.

He'll save the chair for another day.

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It's a rainy Sunday morning, too early almost to already be awake, but he woke up an hour ago and the patter of the rain on the windows has kept him up ever since. He spent his time listening to Peyton's steady breathing, but it's just changed and he's pretty sure she's awake now.

He's not gonna say anything, though. Lately, he's learned that it's often best to let her come to you instead of pushing things.

It takes another ten minutes before she speaks up, and when she actually does so, it's not something he was expecting,

"I'm sorry."

"What?"

"I'm sorry." She repeats and shifts in her spot under the covers, moving closer to him. He instinctively wraps an arm around her and waits for her to say more. "I never considered you much in all of what happened. I was so struck by sadness and pain and grievance. I just couldn't think of anything besides my own pain. I should've thought about you more."

His brow furrows, her words feeling uncomfortable. "Stop that. You don't have to apologize for trying to deal with Allie being gone. I know how hard it is, don't worry about it."

"That's just it, though," She goes on. "You _do _know how it is, we're both going through the same thing. We should've comforted each other more, I shouldn't have closed myself off that much."

"No, you… I'm not blaming you for anything. You did what you could to try to get through it."

She's silent for a while before she looks up at him and meets his eyes for the first time that morning. "But you did once, right? Blame me. Like, when I didn't spend much time with Matty, or that time I couldn't get out of the house to pick him up from school. When we had that fight…"

It's been four weeks since that fight, and it's gone by without them talking about it. He knows they should, he knows they should talk things through, but he actually really doesn't want to. It's not a pleasant memory; it stings and tugs at his heartstrings just to think about it. He wants to forget about it, forget about all the harsh and hurtful words that ever passed between them.

At the same time, it was sort of a turning point for them, so maybe it does deserve to be properly talked about.

"You were right, you know. I wasn't a good mom for him, maybe I'm still not completely. I shut everyone out, I didn't want to deal with anything but myself. I know it's silly, but… Sometimes I felt like if I just stayed in that little cocoon I'd built for myself, everything would be okay. I wouldn't be a mom who lost her kid, we wouldn't be a family who lost a member of it. Everything would be normal. It seems silly now, but it made sense then."

He tightens his hold on her, takes a deep breath before facing the conversation, "It's not silly. I get it. And you were right, too, about me. I haven't been a great dad either. I'm sorry too. I didn't know what to do either, but I got out of the house, I saw people, and I knew how to hide it. I thought I was doing a pretty good job, but you saw right through me, didn't you?"

Peyton lets out a soft laugh and locks eyes with him again, "Don't I always?"

He laughs a little as well, "You do." He traces the apple of her cheek, lets his fingers then tighten in her messy curls. "I love you, Peyton. I don't want us to go through this apart anymore. We're a team, it's you and me, and we gotta get through it together."

He sees her taking a breath before she nods, "I love you, too." She says and he can't help the smile on his face. It's been too long since they said those words to each other. "Do you really think we can get through this and be happy again? Like we used to?"

"Honestly? I don't know. But we owe it to Matty, and to ourselves, to try, right?"

She nods again and he tightens his hold on her once more.

.

.

.

"Peyton looks better." Haley remarks, offering her best friend a beer.

They're in Haley and Nathan's backyard, having come together for a barbecue. It's been a couple weeks since they talked things through; since they agreed to try their hardest to make things okay again.

Peyton's been out of the house semi-regularly, as hard as it has been, and they've both been spending more time with their son.

Right now, she's playing ball with Matt, Jamie and Nathan, Brooke cheering them on.

Lucas looks at Haley, "She does. It's been really hard, still is often, but I think she's better."

"That's great, Luke. We all really missed her." Haley smiles and he smiles right back. He's missed her too. "How about you, though?" She asks then, placing a soft hand on his arm.

He smiles gratefully at her; he's been so used to people worrying about Peyton, himself included, that he never quite realized how little everyone worried about him. And though it's not really that he _needs _people to worry about him, it's simply nice to know they do care.

He doesn't care much for the attention, but this has been hell on him too, he needs to vent sometimes as well.

"Okay, I guess. Better as well." He says after a moment and looks back at his wife and son playing. "It's, I don't know… It's better. It feels nice to be home again, you know? It used to feel so wrong in the beginning, like things were not how they were supposed to be, but it's nice again. It's normal again, for the most part."

He doesn't know how it happened, or when it happened, but somehow, their house started to feel less empty. It may have something to do with Peyton being more present, or with Matthew being more cheerful. At any rate, it's pretty great after all this

Haley smiles at him again, though she also gives him a bit of an odd look, so he can't help but ask, "What?"

She's quick to answer, "Nothing. Just… How do you _feel_? Apart from being happy with the way your house feels, you know. How do _you _feel?"

He playfully rolls his eyes at her and nudges her in the side. Of course she'd get all best friend on him and make him face how he's really doing. "I'm feeling okay. It still hurts, of course, and I'm never gonna feel like we didn't lose a child. It's never gonna go away. But I'm okay, mostly. Most of the time, I'm okay."

She nods approvingly, "Whenever you're not feeling okay, you know I'm here, right?" She says and he nods instantly.

He wraps his arms around her; holds her tight and wordlessly thanks her for always having his back.

.

.

.

"We can go buy some art supplies tomorrow, if you want to." He hears Peyton say from his spot in the kitchen. She's in the living room with Matty, the boy sitting at the coffee table, a drawing in front of him, Peyton herself curled up on the couch.

Matty looks up at his mom, "Yeah? Can we go stop by aunt Haley at the café too?"

It's always been a bit of a tradition; whenever he went with Peyton to get art supplies, or when they started to buy some for him as well, they'd stop by Haley for a drink and maybe a muffin or a piece of cake. Lucas knows it's not really about the art supplies, that they don't even always really need them, but it's been Peyton and Matty's special thing, he'd never say anything about it.

It's been weeks, months, though since he's last seen them leave the house for an afternoon of just the two of them, and he figures they must both miss it.

"Sure, kiddo." Peyton answers then. "I'm sorry we didn't go for a while when I was sad, you know. We'll try and go more often again, okay?" He hears her say and then watches from the kitchen how their son climbs into the couch with her.

The picture melts his heart a little.

"Mom? Are you not sad anymore about Allie?"

It takes Peyton a while to reply, and he knows it's a difficult question to answer. Eventually, she does, "I think I'm always going to be a bit sad about it, honey. Daddy will too, probably. But I'm not as sad as I used to be anymore." She tells him and he nods.

Lucas moves closer to them, and he catches Peyton's eye right before Matty buries his head into the crook of her neck as he hugs her tightly.

She smiles at him, her eyes a little watery, but he knows those aren't bad tears.

It's always present, it's always there in his mind and his heart, and the same goes for Peyton, but it's not everything anymore.

It has its place now, and there's room for other things again.

There's room for happiness again.


End file.
